Hot 'n Cold
by quokka
Summary: What if Tony and Ziva have to share a hotel room during a heatwave (of course there's only one bed, why would you even question that), and the AC has only two settings, basically; "is this thing on?" and "welcome to the North Pole!"


He groaned. Again.

She rolled her eyes. Again. "Are you going to be like this the whole time?"

"Like what?" He smacked the AC unit. And groaned. "Is this thing on?"

Remembering something about ignoring unwanted behavior in toddlers when it wasn't dangerous, she opted to unpack instead of letting him goad her into another heated argument.

A moment later he stood next to her, clothes piled high in his arms, studying her face. "This isn't fair, you're barely even breaking a sweat."

"You're right." She looked him up and down, leaned closer and sniffed, scrunching up her face. "It isn't fair to me."

He rolled his eyes.

"I'll remember this when we have a case in Alaska, and you're freezing your," his eyes darted to her ass, "hands off."

She hung up her last shirt, scoffed and walked over to the bed. "Unlike you, I actually remember to dress for the weather."

He blew out a breath through pursed lips, dropped his clothes on a shelf, and turned to inspect her outfit. Again.

Smirking at the clingy tank top and shorts and what felt like miles of exposed skin, he was elated she did indeed dress sensibly. And that they weren't in Alaska. The thought of snow-covered mountains made the humidity in the room even more oppressive. He frowned, pulled his shirt away from his chest and fanned it a bit as he continued to ogle her bare legs.

She turned at his sudden quietness, then narrowed her eyes. "Tony!"

He startled, smiled sheepishly, and walked towards the AC, tinkering with the buttons again. "Maybe this is some kind of space heater," he suggested with a half grin as he looked over his shoulder.

She smiled faintly as she grabbed her toiletry bag, the thought of some alone time relaxing her tense muscles, and headed for the bathroom. A rejuvenating shower, no inane babbling; what more could she ask for? Hand on the doorknob, she turned towards him. "It is late. Once we are in bed, things will cool off."

He stood up straighter, smiled lasciviously. She clutched the toiletry bag to her chest, tried to ignore what that smile was doing to her core temperature.

His gaze slid down her body. "Really? Usually the opposite happens when I get into bed with a gorgeous woman."

Painfully aware of her own heartbeat, she pursed her lips, leered at his groin and in a honeyed voice said, "I have no doubt you are prone to spontaneous human combustion when you're in bed with me."

His smile widened, then faltered as she closed the bathroom door. His tight voice drifted in through the wooden barrier, "Hey! What's that supposed to mean?" She smirked and turned on the shower, eager to wash away the day.

When she emerged, somewhat composed and refreshed, ready to spend a hot night with her partner—no, _next_ to her partner—a wave of cold air hit her bare skin like a shockwave.

Tony was sprawled on the bed, bare-chested, eyes closed. A smile wavered on her lips and she rubbed her forehead. This day had been exhausting enough without having to deal with the simmering attraction between them, she was ready for it to be over.

He got up when he heard the door close. "I got the AC to work," he said with a beaming smile as he crossed her path on his way to the bathroom.

She glared at the device that had turned their room into the North Pole, inspected the buttons and turned it on low again. A shiver ran through her as she crawled into bed, and closed her eyes, letting the stress of the day seep from her skin.

Warm air wrapped around him like a suffocating blanket when he finally stepped out of the bathroom. He looked about the moonlit room in confusion. "Did the AC die again?"

Leftover frustration reared its ugly head, and she sighed heavily, not bothering to open her eyes. "It was too cold, Tony, I turned it down."

He looked at his partner, only partially covered by a light sheet—maybe the warmth wouldn't be that bad—and got into bed beside her. At least it wasn't as oppressively hot and humid as when they first entered the room.

An hour later, sweat dripping from his brow and every inch of his body, he no longer cared how scantily clad the woman next to him was—did he really just think that? "I think I'm getting heatstroke," he said.

Ziva turned over, lacking any of her usual graceful coordination, and mumbled something incomprehensible.

He sat up to get out of bed, and like a Jack In The Box, Ziva shot up, bleary-eyed, yet gun at the ready.

"What?" She mumbled.

"Oh my god," he groaned. "Calm down, I'm going to turn up the AC."

She placed the gun under her pillow, and rubbed her eyes. "What, no, it will get too cold."

"You're killing me here, Ziva."

"I did not even point the gun at you."

He looked at her incredulously. "That's not…" He sighed, barely mustering the energy to argue with a sleepy, irrational assassin. "If I sweat any harder we might as well be sleeping in a leaky waterbed."

She blinked slowly, then scrunched up her face, and plopped back down. "You are being dramatic."

He glared at the back of her head, downed the rest of his bottle of water, then crunched it near her ear. There was enough light in the room to see her shoulders tense at the sound.

Sliding down beside her once more, annoyance seeping from his pores, he said, "I'm going to die of dehydration, have fun explaining that to Gibbs."

She roughly fluffed up her pillow but remained silent. He smirked, satisfied he finally got the upper hand after a day of being at each other's throats.

"Did you ever see 'Who Framed Roger Rabbit'?" He continued—if he wasn't getting any sleep because of the warmth, neither should she. "I'm gonna end up like the bad guy at the end of the movie, shrieking 'I'm melting, I'm melting'" He glanced at her, no reaction. "You're going to wake up next to a skeleton, covered in goo-"

She turned towards him abruptly, eyes ablaze. "At least skeletons do not complain about the heat all day."

"That's because they have no sweat glands, Miss David," he bit back. He lifted his arm above his head and pointed at his armpit. "I'd be more than happy to share some of my sweat with you to get the full experien-"

"Fine!"

She was out of—and back into—bed so fast his overheated brain barely registered what had happened. She glared at him, grabbed the sheet and covered herself up to her chin, despite the sweltering heat.

He huffed at her exaggerated reaction. The AC unit hummed louder, and he sighed happily at the imminent relief, any sliver of guilt about his behavior fading at the thought of a good night's sleep.

Cool air blowing against her face woke her from an uneasy slumber. She sniffled, shivered, pulled the sheet—too thin to give any protection from the cold air—tighter around her body. Opening her eyes, she sighed at the realization that she would have to get out of bed and face the refrigerated air full-on in an effort to find more blankets. Not that she had actually seen blankets when she had inspected the room earlier.

She glanced over her shoulder, contemplating turning the AC down, but seeing Tony asleep with his arms wrapped around his bare chest gave her a small sense of satisfaction. He wanted freezing temperatures, he can suffer the consequences.

Tiptoeing around the room confirmed her suspicion; no extra blankets. She padded into the bathroom to retrieve every towel she could find. Careful not to wake her sleeping partner, she wrapped herself in the sheet, and piled the threadbare towels on top of her as best she could.

Exposing her skin to the frigid air had wiped any remnants of sleep from her system. She lay awake, staring aimlessly at the wall, listening to Tony's breathing.

And chattering teeth.

She frowned, gut churning. Teaching him a lesson was one thing, letting him get pneumonia out of pettiness, well…

When she glanced over her shoulder once more, she found him staring at her, his whole body shivering. She turned over to face him, careful not to expose herself to the cold air. "Why are you not complaining?"

He clenched his jaw in an effort to stop the chattering. "Can't."

His failed attempt at a smile clenched her heart. "I will turn down-"

"No."

She sighed at his stubbornness. "You will get sick." Cracking a smile she looked him up and down pointedly. "I would rather explain to Gibbs why you are a goofy skeleton, than why you died of pneumonia during a heatwave."

"Gooey," he croaked, before breathing into his hands and rubbing them together.

Her brows furrowed. "Fine," she said flatly and lifted the blanket she had confiscated. The corner of his mouth twitched as relief flooded his eyes. "It is very thin, but it will help."

He wriggled towards the middle of the bed, and happily allowed her to pull him even closer before tightly tucking the sheet around him. If the cold hadn't already made his skin erupt into goose bumps this closeness surely would have. A shiver ran down his spine, and a flash of worry shot through her eyes. Her hand rubbed his back, burning his cold, clammy skin in the best possible way.

"So," he said softly, drowning in her eyes, as warmth spread through his body.

Her eyes crinkled up at the corners. "So," she repeated.

He licked his lips; her gaze darted down briefly and the hand on his back slowed to a caress. "I'm still cold," he said with a hint of a smile.

"Are you," she whispered bemused, draping a leg over his, "because it feels like you're warming up just fine."

He placed a hand on her waist, and when she bit her bottom lip, snaked it around her back pulling her flush against him. The heat generated by their combined bodies was far more desirable than anything he had felt all day.

She tilted her head slightly, her warm nose caressing his cold one. "This is better, yes?"

He closed his eyes briefly, splaying his fingers on her back, then running them up between her shoulder blades. "Oh yeah," he sighed.

Her foot rubbed up and down his calf signaling this had gone way beyond trying to stay warm. He swallowed hard and tangled his fingers in her curls. "I read skin to skin contact is the best way to preserve body heat."

She chuckled, the slight shake of her chest against his sent a tingle down his spine. "Where did you read that?"

He glanced away. "A scientific journal."

"Really?" She raised her leg higher, hooking it over his hip, pulling him tightly against her.

He choked out a breath at the sudden heat, and licked his parched lips. "Could've been GSM," he breathed.

The tip of her tongue darted out between her teeth, turning his brain to mush once more. He closed the distance between them, fusing his lips with hers while rolling on top of her.

She angled her hips upwards, her fingers digging into his ass cheeks. He groaned into her mouth and broke the kiss feeling lightheaded. Staring in her eyes, his hips rolling in rhythm with hers, he grinned and husked, "I'm getting sweaty again."

Wrapping her legs around him, keeping him in place, she challenged him with a smoldering look. "Would you like me to stop?"

He laughed, "Never," and peppered kisses up and down her neck. She arched into him, he inhaled deeply, her exquisite scent setting his nerve endings on fire. "I would like to suggest ditching these clothes, though." He hooked a finger under the hem of her tank top. "And maybe a long shower later on." He captured her lips sloppily, desire raging through his body.

She chuckled against his lips and flipped him on his back before discarding her tank top and threading her fingers through his hair as she kissed him . "I have a feeling we will need a lot of cold showers to get any work done on this assignment."


End file.
